Escape from Almeria
by MLaw
Summary: Illya, Napoleon and horses in the Spanish desert, need I say more? pre-saga


They galloped along shifting sands on their two horses; a blond man riding a black horse and a dark-haired fellow on a white stallion. He rode more elegantly as if he were a trained rider, while the blond sat astride his horse as if he were one with the animal, his longer hair and the mane of the horse blowing in the hot wind.

They were in the Tabernas Desert, in the province of Almería in southern Andalucia, the location of Europe's only desert.

Tradition said the name Almería stemmed from the Arabic المرية Al-Mariyya meaning the"The Mirror", in comparison to the"The Mirror of the Sea" as it was also on the coastline of the Mediterranean.

It's most accepted interpretation was derived from the Arabic مرأى Al-Mara'ā, meaning the"The Watchtower". Given that it was the location of the Moorish castle, the Alcazaba, the second largest among the Muslim fortresses of Andalusia, after the Alhambra, that name seemed fitting.

Solo and Kuryakin were fleeing the town of Tabernas, having just retrieved a stolen notebook containing yet another formula to convert seawater into gold that had fallen into the hands of one Venganza de Sangre, an evil man if ever there was one. They'd locked horns with him before, but being the slimy bugger that he was; he'd gotten away from them yet again.

"Yah!" Illya spurred his horse onwards, only looking back to see if their pursuers were still there. He saw above him, circling in the sky, a different kind of predator, a rather large Bonelli Eagle, native to the desert. It was diving after one of the lesser birds of prey, a kestrel from the look of it.

The landscape was surprisingly well endowed with vegetation for a desert, and full of wildlife such as natterjack toads, terrapins, ladder snakes and lizards. There were only twenty mammalian species known to live there though...

But the only wildlife Solo and Kuryakin were concerned with were the men coming after them. They too were on horseback, and had just appeared over a sand dune and that's when they began to open fire on the American and the Russian.

Illya dropped to the side of his horse, doing one of his Cossack riding tricks in a swift move, dodging the gunfire.

He yelled to his partner. "Napoleon, lock your foot into the stirrup, and dismount, keeping a firm grip on the saddle horn... and hold on tightly!"

"You're kidding, I can't do any of that trick stuff!" He called back.

"Do it or risk getting shot!" The Russian ducked from another bullet, swinging himself down and turning around, he held onto the saddle while returning fire with his Special that he held in his other hand.

Solo was hesitant, but as a bullet whizzed past his head, barely missing him, he quickly changed his mind.

"Oh boy, here goes nothing," he said to himself as he leaned forward, lifting his leg over the saddle as Illya had done, and held on for dear life as the horse galloped. Napoleon smiled when he realized it had worked but unlike his partner, he didn't try to turn around, as he'd surely lose his grip and fall.

Illya managed to bring down two of the six men chasing them, and as the horses charged over yet another dune, more gunfire rang out, but from in front of them. Solo pulled his weapon, but it wasn't necessary...

There standing at the top of the next dune were none other than April Dancer and Mark Slate, firing with their UNCLE carbines. They brought down two more of the Thrushmen, leaving the remaining pair to turn tail and run.

"Nice timing!"Napoleon called as he remounted his horse and reined it to a halt.

"Pretty fancy riding mates," Mark said as he and his partner approached their fellow agents.

"Yes it was, wasn't it?" Napoleon grinned, "Courtesy of Illya here. Say, partner mine, when this is all over how about some more trick riding lessons...ones that don't have to be taught under duress?"

"Me too," April chimed in.

"And you Mark, do you not want to join the happy riding club?" Illya asked, patting his horse on the neck. He opened the top few buttons of his white shirt, revealing his pale skin damp with perspiration, as he found the desert heat stifling.

The Brit snickered, "No thanks guv, I had my fill of horses when Rosy Shlagenheimer's beast threw off me in that bar in Germany." *

.

* ref "The Galatea Affair. episode 62 MFU


End file.
